


Memories Twisted

by sherlockian4evr



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, M/M, Nightmares, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27086257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: Mycroft has a nightmare about Sherlock being tortured. Greg comforts him.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes & Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 3
Kudos: 77





	Memories Twisted

When Mycroft had dreams, they were always incredibly vivid. He experienced all five senses with incredible intensity. It was a curse because it meant that any nightmares he had seemed horribly real. His current one was no exception.

_Mycroft was in a dark, musty room deep under Baron Maupertuis' estate. He was watching his brother be tortured. It wasn’t meant to be that way. He had schemed his way into Maupertuis’ good graces._

_When the undercover government official asked to see the prisoner, he had expected to be led to him by a single operative. Instead, he had had an escort of several men. Apparently Maupertuis thought he would enjoy viewing an interrogation. With the exception of one, the men took up guard posts at various points._

_When Mycroft saw Sherlock hanging by chains attached to his wrists, his arms outstretched to his sides. His brother was keeping his footing, but barely._

_The elder Holmes managed to keep his shock at his brother's appearance from showing on his face as he took a seat. The last thing he wanted was to watch what was to come, but unless he could get some time alone with Sherlock, there wasn't much he could do._

_Helplessly, Mycroft watched as the torturer punched his brother in the side. Sherlock grunted, but that was the only sound the elder Holmes heard from him. The torturer seemed to enjoy his job as he hit Sherlock repeatedly. Mycroft wanted to kill him right then and there, but there were the guards to contend with._

_When the torturer got bored with using Sherlock as a punching bag, he picked up a none to clean but sharp knife and started carving designs into the detective's back. The whole while, Mycroft had to look on silently._

_By the time the torturer started hitting Sherlock with a heavy chain, the elder Holmes thought he might vomit. He only managed to keep the contents of his stomach where they belonged by steely determination._

_The torturer lifted a pipe, striking Sherlock and breaking his back._

“No!” Mycroft shouted as he sat up in bed. His heart hammered and he was nauseated.

“Myc?” Greg asked groggily. It took him a moment to realise what was happening. “You had that dream again,” he said sitting up and pulling the government official to him. “It was just a dream. Sherlock is fine. You are fine. It was only a dream.”

In the darkness, Mycroft let himself be vulnerable and sank into the DI's embrace. “His back was broken this time,” the government official told Greg.

“It didn’t happen. You got him out of there. He's alright,” the DI reassured him.

“I should have done better. I should have got him out sooner. He thinks I enjoyed it,” Mycroft whispered into the darkness.

“No, he doesn’t think that.” Greg sometimes wanted to punch Sherlock for saying that, but he understood that the detective hadn't been entirely himself when he said it. “He was hurting and you know he wasn't entirely stable when he said it.”

Mycroft shook his head. He couldn’t quite bring himself to believe the DI's words. What Sherlock had said would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Greg urged Mycroft the lay down and then he draped his arm over the government official. Pulling him against himself, the DI dropped a kiss on his forehead. “I’ve got you now. Just go to sleep. I'll guard your dreams.”

Mycroft knew it was a silly promise, but somehow it always worked. With Greg watching over him, the nightmares were always kept away.

“Thank you,” the government official said.

Greg kissed his forehead again. “Anything for you, love. Anything.”


End file.
